


You say it's my birthday?

by Chiyume



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable grandpas loving each other, Birthday Boy Barnes, Blueberry pancakes, Bucky Barnes birthday, Caring John, Confused Bucky, M/M, Minor Misunderstandings, Soft Steve, domestic stucky, just because you're the oldest doesn't men you're right Buck, shut up and eat your breakfast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 12:40:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13927323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiyume/pseuds/Chiyume
Summary: Steve and Bucky have a minor disagreement about today's date...Happy Birthday to Bucky Barnes for being the most adorable and lethal fish out of water I've ever had the pleasure to write about <3(Inspired by true events.)





	You say it's my birthday?

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by the ever so glorious and patient [NurseDarry](https://nursedarry.tumblr.com/) <3

Bucky steps into the kitchen, yawning and scratching sluggishly at his belly through his t-shirt. It’s Friday morning, and going by the empty half of the bed that had greeted him upon waking, Steve has already left for his usual meeting at Stark Tower. That’s why, as Bucky’s still busy blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he’s unexpectedly surprised to find that he’s not the only one currently inside the kitchen.

Steve, dressed in jeans and a white tank, is standing by the counter with a pot of coffee in his hand, staring at Bucky as if Bucky’s a cat, and Steve’s the cornered mouse.

“Hey,” Bucky greets in drowsy confusion. “Why are you—?” He cuts himself off as his gaze falls on the counter by Steve’s side, and the tray, the coffee cup, and steaming stack of freshly-made blueberry pancakes decorated with more berries and maple syrup. But most of all, he notices the single cake candle that’s stuffed into the top of the pancake stack, and the wrapped gift box that’s precariously balancing on the tray’s edge.

“What’s this?” he asks, perplexed.

On the other side of the kitchen, Steve blinks at him, his mouth opening and closing dumbly. “Uh,” he manages, before slowly lifting his shoulders into a shrug accompanied by a sheepish smile. “Happy birthday?”

This time it’s Bucky’s turn to blink. Steve, who visibly had been expecting another reaction, slowly lowers the coffee pot down and sets it into the coffee machine. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Did you want something other than pancakes?”

“What?” Bucky snaps himself out of the daze to stare at Steve’s face, realizing that Steve’s looking at him with an expression of pure, unbridled worry. “No,” he says quickly. “No, the pancakes are fine, they’re— Did you just say  _ ‘happy birthday’ _ ?”

“Uh… Yeah.” Steve frowns. He looks at Bucky as though he’s having trouble figuring out if he’s actually asking Steve a serious question, or if he’s pulling his leg. “I mean, last time I checked, that is the traditional greeting. You know, when someone… gets older?” 

They lock gazes. Bucky stares at Steve, and Steve cants his head down, staring back.

When it becomes clear that Steve’s being perfectly serious and with no intent of backing down, Bucky pensively pulls his lower lip in between his teeth to gnaw on it for a moment, before releasing it to swallow hard. God, how’s he even supposed to say this without sounding like a complete asshole?

“Steve…” he starts carefully. “Today is not my birthday.”

Steve instantly straightens up, and Bucky can clearly see his brow fold into an even deeper frown. “What?” he asks. “Of course it is.”

“No, it’s not.” Bucky licks his lips as his gaze is once again pulled to the breakfast tray. “I mean, I’m flattered that you did all this for my sake, and I love it, I really do, but—”

“Bucky,” Steve says firmly. “I  _ know  _ when your birthday is.”

“I— Apparently, you don’t,” Bucky objects. “Because it’s not today.”

“Your birthday is March tenth,” Steve declares, lip twitching. “And has been so for as long as I’ve known you. “

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, throwing his hand out. “That’s absolutely right, I’m not saying you’re wrong about the date. I’m just saying it’s not today _. _ ”

At that, Steve actually  _ laughs  _ at him. Turning his face to the ceiling, dazzling smile causing his eyes to crinkle at the edges, Steve  _ laughs, _ before looking at Bucky again with clear amusement in his eyes.

“Bucky,” he says, still chuckling, “today _ is _ the tenth of March.” 

“ _ No, _ it’s  _ not _ ,” Bucky argues calmly. “It’s Friday. You’ve got the days wrong. My birthday’s not until tomorrow.”

“It’s  _ today! _ ” Steve insists, with the same level of intensity in what sounds like adoring desperation. “Today is  _ Saturday _ , March  _ tenth _ , and  _ your birthday. _ You’re turning 101,  _ today, _ Buck.”

Bucky drags in a deep breath through his nose as he buries his face in his hands, steeling himself. “No,” he groans. “No, Steve, you’re _ wrong _ . I  _ know  _ it’s not Saturday, because yesterday was—” Exasperated, he lets his hands drop, and instantly stops talking.

Steve’s holding his phone out, the lit-up lockscreen a mere inch from Bucky’s face, and Bucky stares at the display in silence while a growing sense of sheepishness slowly fills up his chest. Because right there, just underneath the seconds ticking away on the screen, is the date:

_ 03-10-2018 _

The silence that falls over the kitchen is close to deafening. He swallows several times, staring at the screen, searching for the right words. “Oh,” is all he manages.

“Oh,” Steve echoes pointedly while pulling away the phone to tuck it back into his pocket.

“I, uhm... “ Bucky clears his throat as he ducks his head down, and goddamnit, he’s blushing, he can feel the burn on his face already. “I must’ve… miscalculated.”

“Looks like it,” Steve agrees. Bucky doesn't have to lift his gaze to know that Steve’s smiling, as he feels strong arms wrap around his midsection, pulling him in close.

“Not a word,” Bucky threatens with a glare. “You hear me. If you as much as  _ breathe _ about this to  _ anyone— _ ”

“I won’t,” Steve promises, chuckling. “I swear, it’ll be our secret.”

“It better,” Bucky mutters. 

There’s a short pause.

“So… You still want the pancakes?” Steve teases, and Bucky just barely resists the urge to give him a slap across the back of the head. With his  _ left  _ hand _. _ Instead, he manages to channel his inner mortification to produce the forward movement needed to plant a swift kiss on Steve’s cheek. He tries not to think about how he’s still blushing like an idiot when he pulls back.

“Get back into bed, birthday boy,” Steve orders softly, following it up by giving Bucky’s ass an affectionate slap. “Breakfast won’t count unless you get syrup on the sheets.”

“Fine,” Bucky grumbles, turning around to head back the way he came. As he reaches the door, however, he stops to send a look over his shoulder to where Steve’s gone back to reorganizing the tray to make room for the coffee pot. Watching Steve lean down to poke a few runaway blueberries back onto the pancake stack and then lick the syrup off his fingers has Bucky smiling.

“Hey,” he says, waiting until Steve looks up before he continues, “I love you.”

In return, Steve fires off another one of those sunshine-smiles that still manages to make Bucky’s heart skip a beat. “And I love you,” he replies. Then, turning back to the tray with his lips twitching in amusement, he adds, “Even though your memory still sucks.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and snorts. Yeah, secret or not, he’s never going to hear the end of this.

“Just shut up and bring me my breakfast, will ya?” he grumbles, pretending not to notice his partner’s amused snicker, and the affectionate warmth that swells up inside him in response.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to share your thoughts on the fic in the comments :)  
> You can always find me on [Tumblr](http://chiyume.tumblr.com) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/chiyume87), should you want to talk there instead.  
> I do my best to respond to messages as soon as I get the time, and I love talking to people, so please don't hesitate to write me. Just be patient, for I am a giant slow-poke XD <3


End file.
